Otherworldly Adventurer
by jCOOLn
Summary: With Dumbledore and Voldemort dead the Second Wizarding War has come to a close. To the victor goes the spoils yet a boring life is not one for Harry. Gifted as any other he discovers a bridge between his world and others. He realizes that this is his true destiny. With a new familiar he transverses reality to find himself in a whole new dimension. Lemons/Harem/Genius
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Otherworldly Adventurer**

 **Chapter One: Great Power**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I own Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire**

 **-I am a free writer, and I write when I feel like it, I am not on a schedule, so therefore updates will be infrequent.**

 **-If I lose interest in this story I might just stop writing all together, though in the future I may find interest in it again and then take up updating it then.**

 **-There will be lemons, profane language, character/death, prostitution, possibly torture or abuse (though not on Harry), lying, and probably other sins. If this bothers you, then don't read. You have been warned.**

 **-Harry will participate in polygamy/bigamy, extramarital relations, and other acts of sexuality, though no homosexuality, so if this bothers you then don't read.**

 **XXX**

Walking into the Headmaster's office after all this time was an odd feeling to say the least. Not seeing the old man sitting behind his desk looking like Santa Clause made the room empty somehow. Though considering everything that had happened, after all the loss, it wasn't hard to see he could be melancholy.

Walking behind the desk he pulled out his newest acquisition, the Elder Wand, and with a lazy flick of his wrist and popping sound the drawer opened up. There were so many spells, so many enchantments, so many runes on this desk alone that the mere thought that someone could unlock it so easily was ridiculous, and yet here he was, defying normality once again.

Inside the small drawer was the object he knew would be there. It was his after all, and after his distant relatives, the Flamels, died he could now sense a strong connection to it. Sitting there, resting on purple silk, was the Philosopher's Stone.

He reached down and enchased the small stone in his hand before lifting it up to get a better look at it. He knew, after the Flamels had died, that the stone could only ever be destroyed by someone of the blood. Only someone of the Flamel bloodline who was bonded with the stone would be able to destroy it.

Looking it over he marveled at how beautiful it was. Like an uncut super ruby that had just been pulled from a mine in Africa. It looked smaller then he remembered, though to be fair he had been much smaller the one time he had held it before today.

He knew that it had not been destroyed like the old Headmaster had said, but didn't say anything about it. He had been denied just about everything he had ever wanted in life since he was dropped off on the Dursley's front door step at just a year and a half old. He didn't think things would change all of a sudden, especially over something so valuable, so he had kept his mouth shut. Opportunities to get it back would always present themselves and if nobody knew he was looking for it then nobody would know to keep it hidden from him.

He heard an audible cough from behind him. He stopped marveling at the beautiful gem and turned around the see the smiling moving portrait of the old Headmaster. He was giving him that same award-winning smile that he always had with that twinkle in his eye that persisted even after death.

Some may think Harry would hate the old man for what he had done to him. Played him like a chest piece on a board, used him, and withheld the truth from him. Those people would be ignorant to the truth.

The simple truth was that Harry actually agreed with what Dumbledore did to him. One life, no matter how bad it sounded, was not equal to a thousand. The prophecy made it clear that Harry would be the one to destroy Voldemort, or die and Voldemort would go uncontested.

When thinking of things rationally, instead of emotionally, the truth was quite clear. Harry was possibly the only salvation for the magical world, and if the loyalists who survived being thrown into Azkaban found him they would kill him in the most brutal ways imaginable, and when the Dark Lord came back there would be no one to defeat him.

The love magic cast by his mother kept him alive and safe from those people who would do such a thing to him, and while he was starved for attention and worked more than normal children, it was a better trade off than what it could have been.

His manipulations had to be put into question as well, but once again looking at it logically, it was clear why the old man did what he did. How could a child, who knew nothing of the magical world, be expected to figure out how Voldemort gained his immortality, grow strong and knowledgeable enough to defeat him, when others much older, wiser, and more powerful than him could not.

It was a ridiculous thought, one that Harry agreed with, so the manipulations had to come into play. Dumbledore, the brains behind the operations, and Harry, the means to see things done, worked as a perfect team, in a sense. Dumbledore would probably still be alive, defending Hogwarts with his powerful magic that would have no doubt saved many lives had he not sub come to guilt over his past and temptation in the form of the Resurrection Stone.

In the end, Dumbledore had been right… kind of. For the Greater Good, sacrifices must be made. He was the sacrifice. He wasn't upset about that. For all the pain he endured, the loneliness, hundreds of other children were able to feel love, compassion, and acceptance.

Without the sacrifice his family made, Voldemort would still be out killing and torturing without limit. It was not a fate he would have chosen for himself, but it was something needed for prosperity to occur. After all, there cannot be light without darkness, life without death, pleasure without pain. There will always be a balance in some form or another.

Smiling, breaking himself out of his thought, Harry walked over to the picture of his old mentor. "Looking good old man. Still got that twinkle I see."

The portrait Dumbledore smiled jovially. "Yes, it is amazing what magic can accomplish." His smile faded somewhat. "I hope-"

"Save it old man." His words were not said with anger or bitterness. He smiled lightly. His dirty, cut up, bruised face was still handsome even after all it had been put through. "I understand, and I agree with your methods. They worked after all, and now the world is healing, the right people will take over and fix what their predecessors messed up, and the world will be set on a better path."

The portrait Dumbledore had a smile that was truly happy and a tear that ran down his face was one of joy. "It destroyed me inside to do what I did to you." Harry sat there and let him/it, relieve some of the guilt it felt, regardless of the necessity for it. "I just couldn't think of any other way."

"Nobody is perfect old man" replied Harry. He lifted the Philosopher's Stone, then the Resurrection Stone, followed by the Elder Wand and the Cloak of Invisibility. "After all, in the end, I came out pretty well if I do say so myself.

"The Master of Death, all the life you could ever stand, and all the gold you could ever want. Yes, you did come off very well. So, tell me, what is it like being the Master of Death?" It was a rhetorical question, but one he felt incline to answer.

"Being Master of Death just means being able to accept that death is a natural thing and we must all succumb to it sooner or later. All things die, and death is not something to fear, for in death we take our first step on the next great adventure."

"Interesting" he stroked his long white beard. "So, what will you do now, Mr. Hero?"

"I don't know, travel most likely." He reached into his bag and pulled out several artifacts that surprised even portrait Dumbledore.

The first of course was the Sword of Gryffindor, the second was Salazar' Slytherin's locket, then there was Helga Hufflepuff's cup, followed by Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. All four of the founder's most cherished possessions were now in the Headmaster's office.

"I figured I would leave these as school artifacts for future generations. I have no use for them after all." He picked them up and showed them off one by one. He noticed the look of confusion on Dumbledore's face, so he figured he would enlighten him. "I used to Elder Wand to repair them."

"Ah, now I see" spoke the happy Dumbledore. "I guess I will be seeing you later then Harry?"

Harry just shrugged his shoulders and said, "Maybe" before disappearing through the headmaster's door.

 **XXX**

Harry walked down to the fourth floor of the castle. His destination was an obvious choice even though it was now common knowledge after it had been used to house most of the Gryffindor students while Snape had been Headmaster.

Stopping in front of the Room of Requirements Harry lamented on the fact that most of the things inside of it had been destroyed in the Goyle's half assed use of Fiendfyre. The irony that someone as dumb as Goyle made it into the House of Slytherin and was not smart enough to learn to control such a dangerous spell was not lost on the lone lion. It also angered him greatly as there could have been many valuable books, relics, and ingredients inside of the room that were now lost to the world forever.

Taking a deep breath in order to clear his mind of the stupidity of others Harry reaffirmed his mental shields. Once his mind was calmed he made it absolutely clear what he desired. Luckily the magic of the Room of Requirements had not been damaged by the dark magic as a door seemed to grow from the stone wall. It took it a moment but eventually a grand door standing over fifteen feet vertical made of steel appeared before the lone lion.

Not even checking to see if someone was watching him he strode forward and opened the gargantuan door. Inside was not what most would expect his desires to be. It was simple a bare stone room. Granted the possibility of what the room was capable of conjuring now was unknown. It stood to reason that it could have still been able to form moderate desires, but a bare room hidden away from prying eyes was exactly what Harry had wanted. It also in turn became what he got.

Walking over towards the center of the room Harry sat down. The bag at his hip was soon opened as its owner began to pull out various instruments. Eventually a small potions lab was formed from the myriad items he had borrowed from the former Head of Slytherin. Considering Snape was dead it stood to reason he wouldn't miss it very much.

Working alone Harry pulled out a jug of tapped water. Absent mindedly he poured a gallon of water into the cauldron. With a flick of his hand a small fire formed under the pewter kettle. It didn't take long for the water to boil though he had to make sure it was stirred every twelve minutes. Once a quart of water had evaporated from the pot he knew he was ready for stage two of his plans.

Fishing out the Philosopher's Stone from his pocket he gently looked it over. The ruby red crystalline stone reflected beautifully even in the dimly lit room. It was cool to the touch and had a texture not dissimilar to glass. He figured this is what a ruby this size would probably feel like had he ever even had the money to buy such a thing.

Without much fanfare he dropped it into the cauldron. The boiling water changed from clear water to almost a liquid maroon color. Again, he waited until a quart of the water was boiled away while stirring the contents every twelve minutes. After a while the maroon color settled on a ruby red.

"This next part is a bit disturbing." Harry had always been against blood magic. Although it had been used to save his life the use of blood as a medium just gave him the creeps.

With a silver blade he had borrowed from the Herbology classroom he slit his hand. The cold sting was ignored as twelve drops of blood dripped down into the cauldron. Curiously the water turned into a soft pink instead of darkening into something more sinister as one might expect. Just looking at it made Harry's mind wander. It had been this elixir that had allowed Nicholas Flamel and his wife to live for over six centuries. This elixir was once almost used by Voldemort to return him to corporeal form. And it was this elixir that drove so many to recreate it. Now the Elixir of Life was Harry's, and yet it was not enough.

Sometimes Harry wondered if it was his nature to want the best or if he was starting down a long and dark road. He had no desire for power that is gained from a position, but mastery over magic had always intrigued him. It was for this reason alone he had worked so hard to master many unique branches of magic. Still, until he started hurting others in pursuit of something, he felt he was still on the right path.

"I wonder if Nicholas ever thought of advancing his own creation." It was certainly possible. Yet sometimes geniuses create something great but do not find ways to make it better. That was the difference between invention and innovation. "Maybe he just didn't want to life forever. I know I don't but making this potion repeatedly seems so tedious. Since it doesn't make the user truly immortal I cannot see why he wouldn't create an Elixir of Eternal Life instead of just a temporary fix in the Elixir of Life."

While pondering this question a flame burst into life upon Harry's shoulder. With a beautiful voice Fawkes of all creatures appeared perched on his shoulder. To anyone else this would have been a major shock yet to the duo this was an old hat by now. Before saying anything, the Boy Who Lived reached up and patted the ancient bird upon the head to which it nuzzled his hand thankfully.

"How have you been my friend?" The bird's call did not translate as human words did to Harry, but the sense did reach him. Through their familiar bound a connection had formed deep within them. This allowed the other to understand the latter in new and profound ways. "That is good. Do you mind? It is almost time."

Fawkes bobbled his head up and down before leaning over. On cue a tiny tear drop began to form in the corner of the bird's magnificent eyes. A moment later two drops fell into the boiling cauldron. Instantly the water changed from ruby red to molten gold. In a swift effort Harry began to stir the pot though now counter clockwise.

With on hand stirring he used the other to pull out a small beaker. He didn't really need to use such a thing it just was the first thing he saw. In a deft motion he poured the contents of the cauldron into the beaker making sure to get ever single last drop. In the end only, a cup of liquid remained with the Philosopher's Stone now resting at the bottom of the pot.

The potion was warm to the touch as the heat had transferred quickly through the glass. Yet he didn't hesitate to turn his head back and gulp the substance down. Instead of burning him horribly a sudden sensation of elation traveled through his body. Like drinking a perfect cup of hot coco made by a loving mother in a warm environment every cell in Harry's body sang with joy.

When he was done he wanted to slam the beaker onto the floor in anger for being empty so soon. After a moment he was able to control himself. The moment had passed and there was no point is beating himself up over something that cannot be changed.

"Wow!" Harry looked over at Fawkes. "That was good." The bird leaned down and rubbed his head against Harry's seemingly joyful that he was happy.

"I know no one can live forever." He looked at the beaker in his hand. "But I still want to enjoy my time. When I am ready or when the world is tired of me I will die but until then there are so many secrets we can discover together." Fawkes agreed with him singing a happy tune no doubt overjoyed at having someone to stay with him for longer than mortals usually survived.

After that Harry packed up the makeshift potions set making sure to clean every one with a flick of his wand. The Philosopher's Stone was placed inside a magical metal box meant to protect it from detection, theft, and just getting lost in general.

In no time he had left with no one being anymore aware of what had happened inside those four walls than anyone else.

 **XXX**

Being a celebrity was nice. Being a hero was great. Being a messiah to a bunch of idiots was nothing short of a chore.

It had only been a month since the end of the Second Wizarding War and already people were clamoring for Harry to be their everything. They wanted to know if he would become Headmaster of Hogwarts, if he would run for Minister of Magic, and or take any number of offices Dumbledore had when he ended his own magical war.

Harry had no interest in any of these things. He wanted adventure, to learn in a practical way, to see new sights, meet new people, learn exotic magic, and discover unknown creatures. He did not want to be hounded by the media which had caused him so much grief in his life, stalkers, hangers on, politicians, companies, and everyone else who seemed to want a piece of him.

He wanted to live, not rot!

For that reason, he had decided to travel. Not around the world as magical people when stalking you did so much better than anyone else ever could. No, he decided to try a new dimension. It was a bit of lost knowledge but with some digging, some guessing, and a little ingenuity he was able to figure out how the Veil worked. Well he had first had to figure out its original purpose but after that the designation was clear.

Oh, how it would make Hermione so jealous to learn that he had been the one to possibly make the greatest magical discovery in a thousand years without all her tedious studying or research. It would throw her into a furry if she ever learned he never intended to teach or even reveal what he knew to anyone thus dooming this tidbit of information to remain in the dark possibly forever.

His discovery was simple as it was complex. The Veil of Death was actually a massive portal that dug tunnels between dimensions using magic. There was possibly an infinite number of universes so locating a specific one was an art in and of itself. Why it had been used to try and break into Death's domain was beyond Harry. Best guess was someone trying to avoid death or someone trying to bring someone back from the dead.

Regardless of reason the knowledge on how to control it was lost and its setting was stuck in Death's domain.

Harry had no interest in going to the land of the dead. He had already made it to Limbo and back, but he didn't believe himself lucky enough to enter Death's realm and just be able to sneak off back to the land of the living. Thus, he simply needed to alter the knobs so to speak so he could travel to a world that was both interesting, livable, and most importantly not filled with Harry Potter nuts.

For that reason, Harry used Fawkes' ability to teleport using fire to enter the Department of Mysteries. He could have gotten the clearance because well he was Harry Potter, but where is the fun in that?

The room that housed the Veil of Death was still the same as he remembered it last. Quiet, still, as if the world was holding its breath. It was fitting seeing as Death's home was on the other side of a narrow tunnel protected only by a thin veil of magic. This should not be the case. Limbo existed to prevent death and life from touching. They would destroy one another should such a thing occur. The magicals who made this thing didn't realize how close to destroying the world they came in their ignorance.

"Ok that morose thought was depressing" announced Harry, whose voice echoed off the walls. Fawkes' bobbled his head in agreement. "Now let's see here… where is that little control stone?" He moved about running his hands through the sand and over the boulders which were situated all around the arch.

"Ahah! Here it is!" His triumphant cheer was accompanied by the much more beautiful voice of Fawkes. "You really are a competitive bird, aren't you?" Fawkes pecked him though it was light and didn't cause any pain. "Alright, you're the best and I am just jealous I get it." That seemed to brighten his fire bird up some.

Shaking his head and getting back to work Harry pushed the bird's temperament from his thoughts as he looked over the runes upon the central stone. At its heart there was an octagon with a faint red smear. "Why is it always blood that is needed to operate these things?" His question went unanswered as he pulled a goblin-silver knife from his belt and slashed his own hand.

He placed his bloody hand on the octagonal symbol. The symbols on the first bolder started to glow a dim blue before the rest followed suite. "No wonder so many people died back then. Having to cut yourself to operate everything no doubt lead to wide spread infections, disease, and blood loss." He got an annoyed peck from Fawkes which was more to keep his attention focused on the task at hand.

"I know I know" was all Harry said as he looked back at the Veil. "Now let's see what we can cook up." It took him a while to get used to operating the Veil. He quickly realized digging a tunnel to an alternate dimension took too long. Instead he could pierce reality to get faint glimpses of the other dimensions. This method was much faster.

"This one is nice" announced Harry as his eyes, unknown to him, were glowing brighter than even the killing curse as he gazed past how own reality and into another's. "I see mist mostly but there is a city not too far out. A city usually means people, and if there are people then I won't go crazy having no one to talk to." He received another peck for that comment as well. "You are an exception! I need human contact!" One more peck to the temple. "Uhggg! How about this? I need to touch of a beautiful woman every once in a while, or else I will go stir crazy!" That seemed to satisfy the immortal bird. "Jerk." Peck, peck, peck. "Owww!"

Rubbing his temple and shooting the burnt chicken a glare Harry twisted his hand on the octagon. A pulse of magic spread from the room like a massive heart beat. Although there was no sound, vibrations, or anything else the sense that something was moving in between space could still be felt in one's soul. It was a terrifying and awe-inspiring thing.

Once the tunnel was complete it was like starring out of a door. The Veil was the frame and the new world was the door. All he needed to do was take a step forward and he should be in a new dimension.

As he walked towards it his familiar squawked and pulled him back a bit. "What is it now? I thought you were as excited as I was about this trip." Fawkes' graceful neck turned towards the direction he had come from. Confused he looked back and saw the backpack he had taken with him lying on the floor.

"Oh crap! I almost forgot… everything really." His familiar was now looking at him with less hope than he had that very morning. "Look! This is very new stuff ok! It's not every day a man drills a hole in reality to bridge two dimensions together you know! Cut me some slack alright?" Surprisingly Fawkes seemed to except this excuse.

Walking over to the back where he grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He wasn't tempting the loss of his more important magical objects such as the Elder Wand, the Cloak of Invisibility, the Resurrection Stone, or the Philosopher's Stone. These three powerful magical objects were transfigured into rings which retained the powers of the objects though in new forms which Harry now wore on his left hand.

He didn't expect that traveling along the magical tunnel to the new world would be a bumpy or unpleasant event unlike most magical travel but best safe than sorry. His backpack could be lost somehow along the way or possibly while entering the new dimension. To be without his greatest tools in a new and possibly hostile dimension was not a risk he was willing to take.

He slipped his original wand into the holster strapped to his right forearm before slinging his backpack over his shoulder. This jostling rumpled Fawkes on his perch but he was amiable about it.

"I can't say it is going to be all sunshine and daisies from here on out, but I will say that I am happy to have you as my travel companion." He reached up to stroke Fawkes' feathers. He sang lightly in appreciation. "Otherwise who will pull me out of a dangerous situation when I do something foolish?"

Fawkes' squawks sounded suspiciously like laughter but one mystery at a time. Everyone has quirks there was no doubt. In his experience birds in the magical world tended to have them as well. They also tended to have more humanly emotions and understanding than most others. In fact, Fawkes and Hedwig both seemed to understand emotions than most of the people Harry had ever known, himself included. It was quite fascinating.

"Well, new world, watch out" began Harry as his feet took him towards the Veil. "I am coming for you. I won't say that I am the best of people." There was a predatory grin on his face. "But at least I can say I am not the worst. Regardless, I am on my way." With that Harry Potter ran into the Veil at full speed with his familiar Fawkes flying right beside him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Otherworldly Adventurer**

 **Chapter Two: Welcome to Westeros**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I own Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire**

 **-I am a free writer, and I write when I feel like it, I am not on a schedule, so therefore updates will be infrequent.**

 **-If I lose interest in this story I might just stop writing all together, though in the future I may find interest in it again and then take up updating it then.**

 **-There will be lemons, profane language, character/death, prostitution, possibly torture or abuse (though not on Harry), lying, and probably other sins. If this bothers you then don't read. You have been warned.**

 **-Harry will participate in polygamy/bigamy, extramarital relations, and other acts of sexuality, though no homosexuality, so if this bothers you then don't read.**

 **XXX**

"Well that was unexpected." For once in his entire life Harry had traveled using magical means and it had not been unpleasant. Who would have guest walking between dimensions was easier on the stomach than teleporting across town?

Fawkes gave a cry of acknowledgment as he remained perched on Harry's shoulder.

Blinking his eyes several times he realized that wherever he was it had to be very dark. Reaching to his hip he pulled out the Elder Wand and tapped the side of his eyes. The green of his iris seemed to glow with an inner light of their own. To Harry it was like turning the light switch on. Everyone became crystal clear again. It was even better than night vision.

Slipping the wand back into its holster he stood back up and brushed himself off. After a moment he began looking around to see if he couldn't make out anything familiar.

For a moment Harry suspected that he had ended up in Hogwarts somehow. The large stone walls around him reminded him of the old castle that way. It was certainly not a modern building by any stretch of the imagination. That belief soon passed. While there was a small amount of magic in the air it was nothing next to the supercharged stone work that had been absorbing the excess magic created by children for centuries.

Relieved that he hadn't done something incredibly stupid only to get nothing out of it the teen turned around. Behind him was a stone wall yet with black tribal markings that formed together to make an archway. While the design didn't give off a lot of magical energy when touched it seemed to be a source of infinite power. After examining for a while Harry suspected that using this would allow him to return home. How it worked he had no clue. It certainly wasn't operated the same way as the Veil had been.

"Hahahaha!" Fawkes looked at him like he was craze as laughter seemed to fall out of him in waves. "Sorry," He gripped his gut trying to suppress his mirth. "It's just that I remembered the entrance to King's Cross." Again the bird gave him a queer look. "I just thought about running into it at full speed. Then my mind went straight to running head long into a brick wall!" With that even Fawkes began to laugh as only a bird could.

Once Harry regained control of him amusement, though a few chuckles were let slip every now and then, he began walking to a large wooden door. It was thick made possibly from a good solid piece of oak with a primitive metal door handle. With a simple pull it opened up though dropped dust all over him.

As the young wizard and phoenix walked down the corridors of the castle it became apparent that it had been abandoned at some point. Neither of them could blame said people as portions of the keep seemed to have been burnt to nothing but twisted rubble. Wood tables, tapestries, and other things he could understand but to melt stone with fire wasn't something normal fire usually did.

As he inspected the keep gaining an insight to the people that had once lived there he turned a corner. For a second Harry assumed wasn't paying attention and then paid for it dearly. With an audible thump of something oddly metallic Harry backed up messaging his nose.

"Bloody hell that hurt." Harry looked at his hand and was thankful to see that there was no blood.

It took a moment but he realized he could see his hand with both eyes. As he looked up he saw a man carrying a torch staring straight at him. His hard face did nothing to help the apprehension Harry was starting to feel. That and the plate steel armor he wore along with the sword at his hip made multiple thoughts fly through Harry's head.

The man said something though Harry didn't understand it in the least. It became apparent to the young wizard that this man spoke a language that he did not. When the man didn't get a reply his tone got rougher as his free hand slowly made its way down towards the blade at his hip.

Not wanting to fight Harry tried to take a relaxed pose as his hand casually reached into his robes. The knight tensed up obviously thinking he was going for a weapon. As he pulled out his wand the man said something threateningly. His face changed to more confusion as he saw it as nothing more than a stick. Casually Harry flicked the wand three times without saying a word. Satisfied he slipped the wand back into its holster.

"I am sorry, what did you say?" The man eyed his sharply for a brief moment.

"I asked to know who you were to be trespassing on the lands of House Targaryen!" The man's voice had a distinct accent. It would have been nice enough he the man not been so angry.

"My name is Harold Peverell. I am a traveler who is lost in a land I have never been to before." Honesty and none threatening was what he was going for at the moment. That being said he couldn't give out his real name in case he had to run away or defend himself.

The man looked at him for a long minute. "Your accent, where are you from?"

"England." Given their level of technology he doubted they have explored their world completely so an obscure land probably wasn't very farfetched. "It is an island nation off the coast of France."

"You must have traveled a long way." Harry nodded his head knowing this man had no idea how right he was. "Even further than Essos. Or perhaps it is an island south of Essos located close to the Basilisk Isles?"

The young wizard shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry, I haven't ever heard those names in my life."

"Regardless of where you are from you are coming with me." Harry was just about to stun the man at this point. He had no interest in having to deal with more of these guys. "The prince will decide what is to be done with you. Have no worried traveler. The prince is a kind man who will one day make a great king."

That was interesting. If nothing else he could meet a prince. If he was as kind as this guy said then maybe he would even help him out. Regardless he wasn't scared to use magic to save himself. This was just the beginning of his new adventure. This guy in plate armor wasn't going to put a stop to it.

"Lead the way." And with that the two of them wandered through the castle together in silence.

 **XXX**

The section of the castle that the guard had taken him to was much nicer than the vast majority that remained. While for all intents and purposes it could still be classified as a ruin there were accommodations that weren't burnt to pieces. In fact some of the rooms that they had passed, while Spartan, were entirely livable.

Eventually Harry was lead to a solar of some sorts. Where once there had no doubt been a large and expensive oval shaped room, probably used for dancing or entertainment, was just a cold brick encampment. On each of the four walls there was a touch held up to illuminate the room. As they walked Harry looked up and saw the fire damage had eaten away the ceiling leaving a crude sunroof. While in this case it would be a moon roof as apparently it was nighttime considering the full moon hanging over their heads.

At the center of the strange room was a recliner of some sort. It was a stunning red accented with gold frills here and there. Someone was sitting on it though only the lower half was visible due to the angle. What was visible however, was the other two guards just standing around seemingly protecting the single individual relaxing.

With the nonverbal introduction to the other two guards it became apparent that the gold armor with the white cloak was not something his escort had just chosen for himself. Considering his own knowledge of history Harry guessed that these guys were the personal bodyguards of the prince. If that were the case then the gold armor and white cloaks were more of a uniform than their own gaudy tastes. Though what could one expect of royalty. Of course their attire would be over the top.

Harry's mind did a weird thing where it started to wander. The guards protecting this prince of theirs were more like jewelry than guards. The gilded armor and clean white cloaks something along the lines of accessories to accent whatever the noble was wearing. He was only pulled from his thoughts as a voice kept interfering with his thoughts.

"Huh?" He quickly shook his head. 'Great that stupid comment didn't win me any friends.'

A soft laughter drew Harry from his thoughts. When he looked ahead he came face to face with a very unique looking individual. Hair the color of silver fell down to the teenager's chin and a bit past his neck. His face was a pale though not sickly complexion while his eyes were the strangest color he had ever seen on a human being. Dark Indigo, probably darker than normal considering the lack of light in the room, stared back at him. And to complete it all the youth had a handsome face to pull it all together. Factored in with his strong frame, fine clothing, and flanked by his guards the young prince cut quite the imposing figure.

"I asked your name." The smile remained and there was no anger in his tone for which Harry was grateful for. "I guess it is rude to ask for another's name while not giving your own so please let me correct myself. I am Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, Heir of House Targaryen, Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, and the Prince of Dragonstone."

"Seems you are the prince of a lot of things." One of the guards seemed to bear down on his but the prince stopped him. "I haven't heard that many titles in a while." A wistful sigh escaped Harry's mouth. "But if you are looking to know my name it is Harold Peverell, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell."

"Like Castle Summerhall?" One of the guards questioned him. The implication that he was stealing didn't go unnoticed but was left ignored.

"So you are a noble?" The Prince seemed generally interested. "I am sorry but I have not heard of a House Peverell. Do you come from the Reach perhaps?"

The guard beside Harry spoke up. "No my lord, he claims to be from an island nation called England. I thought perhaps it would be located in the Jade Sea, but he claims to have never even heard of the Basilisk Isles or Westeros so I cannot be for certain."

"Thank you Sir Whent." Rhaegar fixed Harry with his gaze to which Harry returned with equal intensity. "So, Lord Peverell, how did you come to be in Westeros?"

Soon Harry was spinning for the gathered group a tale he was making up on the fly. In the end he lied and said he had been kidnapped while at sea, but the ship transporting him had been destroyed in a storm. From there he washed up on shore and began to wander around until he found shelter for the night.

He was very vague on a few subjects such as who had kidnapped him. In short he called them pirates with no affiliation that he could see. How far he walked and in what direction was also out the window. For all he knew he could be a hundred miles from any ocean making his story fall flat. Thankfully he was in luck. His facts checked out enough to at least skim by.

Luckily for him Rhaegar was much more interested in his home than he was in the accuracy of his story. While the prince was kind and seemed to feel bad for him it wasn't an overwhelming concern. Still it was much better than it could have been so he started to tell the Crown Prince about his country though subtracting four hundred years from his current age.

During his stories he tried to keep any technology, references, or ideas that he didn't believe these people would have. He didn't want to accidently introduce a new weapon or idea to these people. For one he may be captured and forced to recreate such a device. The other concern was that they would create it on their own and start a war. If there was one thing in history that was constant it was that nations didn't need a whole lot of reasons to go to war in such an age. That and when one nation developed a new advanced weapon they normally went to war and dominated their neighbors

At the end of his story the Prince was smiling. "Your home sounds quite lovely."

"More like cold and wet, but still home."

Everyone seemed to understand what he was saying. The Kingsguard who had eyes similar in color to the prince spoke up. "Home is where the heart is. My heart for instance shall always be in the deserts of Dorne."

The Prince took a sip of his wine before giving him a queer look. "You know, I have been wondering something."

"And what is that?"

The Prince pointed to Fawkes perched on his shoulder. "That bird. I have never seen its like before. What is it?"

Fawkes deftly jumped onto Harry's outstretched arm. The phoenix began to coo lightly as he pet the back of his feathered head. "This is Fawkes. He is a phoenix. They are a very rare bird breed from my homeland." He made a gesture for everyone to come closer. "As long as you do no hold any dark intents he will let you pet him."

The Prince went to pet the bird but was stopped by one of his bodyguards. The armored knight hesitantly stretched out his left hand to pet the bird. Fawkes eyed him for a moment before chirping lightly as if accepting him. The knight began to lightly pet the same spot Harry had. Seeing that the bird was safe the rest of the Kingsguard began to pet him as well. Finally, the Prince got his turn. Harry noted that Fawkes eyed him the longest before letting him pet his head. Harry wondered why.

"He is quite the majestic creature. I do not believe I have ever seen a creature compare in my life."

Harry watched as Fawkes preened a bit at the compliment. "Yea, he's not so bad."

Fawkes sang a bit soothing everyone's soul a bit. It was obvious to the Prince that the bird is special. They began to talk for hours exchanging information and ideas between them. The Prince was very interested in England, but more so in Fawkes. It was understandable, and Harry did tell him a lot, but did leave off the fact that he had magical tears that could cure anything. That was something that he sought to avoid at all costs. That kind of information would lead to nothing but trouble.

Eventually the Prince grew tired and was ready to go to bed. Harry went to leave the ruined castle, but was surprised to receive an invitation to remain by the Prince. Although he did want to go out and see more of this new world, he figured that sticking with the Prince would offer him opportunities that he wouldn't have otherwise.

It became clear to him that he should enjoy this adventure instead of rushing through it. There was an entire would to explore and he should saver every moment. Wandering around with a real-life Prince would not doubt be interesting. Plus, if life amongst the nobility grow boring then he could always leave. There was no way that they could force him to stay. He couldn't imagine why they would, seeing as they wouldn't know about his magic, apart from Fawkes. The nobles may want to keep such an exotic creature for their own. Still, that was easy to get around as well.

He had to pretend he didn't have a cot of his own. If he did then there was no doubt that they would know his story had been false. Luckily, he did have magic on his side. Some basic charm work allowed him to sleep on practically a stone floor with little to no discomfort.

 **XXX**

To say what he had learned of the Prince's family was not interesting would be a bold-faced lie. They had impressed him in a way. While Valyria was very romanticized by the Prince, and probably Westeros culture, he saw them as little more than monsters. They used blood magic to force slaves to work in boiling hot mines for resources while conducting a never-ending war for power amongst their own people. That was to say the least how they conducted themselves with their neighbors. To say they got what they deserved was an understatement.

No, what had impressed him was their ability to tame dragons. In his own world dragons were notoriously independent creatures and practically untamable. It was very likely that the dragons of this world were different from the ones in his own. Still, from what he heard, they were none the less very dangerous, volatile, and large.

He wanted one.

"Sadly, they were all burnt up by the wildfire." That was another thing Harry wanted to study. The magical fire that the Alchemist Guild created was a secret he wished to learn. The Prince talking snapped his focus back to him. "Along with everything else it seems."

Harry looked at the Prince for a moment. It had become quite clear to him that the Prince was just a little moody. He could be quite happy, though never overly so, but then quite melancholy. The guards seemed to think this just meant he was deep. Harry thought that there might be some type of psychological issue with him. It might have been minor, but still a bit daunting when thinking he would one day rule an entire nation of people.

Walking over to a chair he picked it up and smashed it against the closest wall. Everyone turned to look at him. He repeated what he was doing with a vase that had somehow survived the flames. When it became apparent he would continue the Prince asked him to stop.

Holding a half-burnt portrait Harry looked at the Prince oddly. "I thought you said that everything was burnt up. Surely you do not care if I smash ash into ash?"

"I did not mean it literally."

"Then that means that there is still a possibility that some of the dragon eggs are intact. Tell me, where did this supposed ritual to hatch these dragon eggs take place?" Everyone just gave him a look. "What? Do any of you have anything better to be doing?" Only silence met him.

His eyes rounded on the Prince. "Unless you decree that excavating for dragon eggs is illegal then that it what I am going to do. You can stay and help, or just do what you were already going to do." With that Harry walked off.

It did not surprise him that the Prince soon joined in. That meant that his personal guard were soon at his flanks as well. With their help he was able to locate the source of the fire much easier. Rhaegar motioned towards a spot on the floor where the stone seemed to have melted down into the Earth's core. It was apparently the location that the dragon eggs had been in. Looking down into the hole he couldn't see the end of it.

Green eyes glanced at the phoenix. "What do you think?" Fawkes let out a strange sound that Harry had never heard before. His head began cocking back and forth.

The Prince put down a piece of rubble and made his way towards the duo. "Something the matter?"

"I am not sure." He watched Fawkes for a moment longer. "He has never done this before. I suspect it may have something to do with the magical fire you spoke of. The magic could still be lingering."

"Is he ok?" Actual concern laced the Prince's voice.

Harry ignored the Prince and focused on Fawkes. "What is wrong?" The phoenix calmed down before glancing at the hole. "Is there something in there." The bird of fire chirped in conformation.

Everyone followed the odd duo as they approached the hole. Seeing that it was far deeper than it should be he asked for a torch. Holding it over the whole he saw that it still did not illuminate the bottom.

"Maybe if we had some rope?"

The Kingsguard was ignored as Fawkes gave an aggravated cry. He flew off Harry's shoulder and into the hole. "Fawkes? What are you doing? You could get stuck!" The phoenix ignored him completely.

"Is he going to be alright?" The Prince knelt beside him looking into the hole. His entire focus was set on it like a watch dog.

There were occasionally the sound of a wing scrapping against the walls, squawks, and scratching of claws. Harry shook his head. "I do not know. He's an independent one. That is for sure."

After a few more minutes Fawkes returned carrying a large egg in each of its claws. Everyone was shocked as the bird flew to the prince and deposited a silver and purple egg in his lab. After that the phoenix returned to Harry. Thankfully he didn't land on his shoulder. Instead he made his perch right in front of him. Oddly enough he sat on the egg like he was warming it.

"I do not believe it." The Prince's whispers went unnoticed by Harry as he observed Fawkes' strange behavior.

Rhaegar turned the dragon egg over several times in his hands observing the beautiful coloring. Its primary color was a polished silver while around its siders were stripes of purple. It was quite large. Its size would easily match that of a six-month-old child. Like a child the Prince held the dragon egg close to his side as if protecting it from the world. It didn't even register to him that if the egg could survive wildfire then the protection his body could offer would amount to nothing much.

If phoenix could smile Harry was sure that is what Fawkes was doing. The phoenix, which was no small bird, sat quite comfortably on the dragon egg. Harry had studied phoenix before, but their mating rituals had always been unexplained by researchers. They always would just use their unique teleportation abilities to allude anyone trying to watch them. Given that train of thought it wasn't impossible that male phoenix sat on their eggs.

Kneeling besides the preening phoenix he spent some time simply observing the egg beneath him. It was quite apparent to him that the phoenix had no interest in giving it up. Brushing the phoenix's feathers to the side, much to Fawkes' irritation, he began to examine the egg.

It was slightly larger than the one the Prince was cradling in his arms. Ironically it was primarily gold with red being its secondary color. It was like an inverse of Fawkes' himself. Even the tints were practically the same. The gold was like that of freshly polished twenty-four karat gold. The red was ruby with the same reflective qualities. If he didn't know any better, he would have assumed the egg a decoration piece made of rubies and gold instead of a living creature.

Looking over at the Prince he called out to him. It took him a moment to break whatever trance the egg had on the Prince. "Hey! Can we keep this one? I don't think Fawkes is quite willing to give it up."

The Prince only gave a brief glance towards the phoenix. He probably didn't see much considering Fawkes' need to warm the entire thing with his body.

"Of course." It was barely a mumble. His focused was far to zeroed in the on the in his hand to really think about it too much. Still, when the effect wore off, he may change his mind.

"Are there any more?"

Both Harry and the Prince looked at Sir Barristan. They had both forgotten that he was even there. In fact, all the Kingsguard had been forgotten in the excitement. The Prince turned to look at him with a questioning look on his face. Harry just looked at Fawkes who ignored them all simply happy to continue playing the doting house hen.

Eventually he was able to get a response from the phoenix. "I think there are more, but none of them are alive." His eyes flickered over to the Prince. "What does that mean?"

"Dragon eggs petrify after so several centuries. These two must be much younger than the other ones." Rhaegar was still clutching the dragon egg closely to him, but was now glancing at the whole. "Still, a dragon egg even when petrified is worth a fortune."

"Perhaps when we return to the capital a team can be sent back with some rope and tools to see if they cannot find anymore. I would offer you Fawkes' help, but he doesn't seem too interested." As if to emphasize this point he pointed at Fawkes whose eyes were closed.

"That is a promising idea." He picked himself up. "We should return to our quarters. I know that I promised to show you around Summerhall, but with the current situation I'm sure you will forgive me."

Harry lifted his hands up in fake surrender. "No, no, my Prince, I am just happy you are letting Fawkes' keep his egg."

That was a lie. Had the Prince tried to take the egg he would have simply incapacitated his along with his bodyguards. After that it would be a simple matter of erasing the second egg from their memories, creating some false memories of them going to sleep, and moving their bodies to somewhere more believable for them to wake up. The only real hiccup would be hiding Fawkes and the egg. A glamour charm or one to make people simply not notice it would be the best idea. After that things would go on as they had been.

But that didn't mean he wasn't going to use magic. Once he was sure everyone was asleep he cast a simple charm on them to prevent them from being disturbed. He left Fawkes behind as he didn't feel like dragon the remarkably heavy egg along with him. After some searching he eventually find the travel back he had come to this world with. After looking through it for a moment he found a chest he had shrank down for storage purposes.

A few minutes later he was back at the hole. With a flick of his wand the box was returned to its original size and flipped open. Turning to the hole he flicked his wand once more. Five petrified dragon eggs floated out of the hole and hovered in front of him for a moment.

Taking some time to examine then he noticed that they were nowhere as beautiful as the two Fawkes had found. In fact, they looked much more like stone than the precious metals and beautiful stones the first two seemed to be made of. With a slightly disheartened flick of his wand all five of the eggs sat perfectly into the molds he had fashioned with his magic within the chest. With a final flick of his wand the chest closed, locked, and then was shrank down.

After securing the chest he returned to his sleeping arrangements. Fawkes actually gave him a welcoming chirp to which he happy replied. They sat up for a while simply enjoying the other's company. Their eyes watched the flames for a while. The flickering of lights was always pleasant to the duo.

"You do know that dragon egg hasn't hatched in centuries don't you." Fawkes ignored him. "It was doused in magical flames and still didn't hatch." Fawkes continued to ignore him. With a small he scratched the phoenix's head. "Don't worry. We will find a way to hatch them."

With that Harry laid down and began to get comfortable. What he did not see was the knowing look in Fawkes' eyes. Fawkes turned his head back towards the flames. He simply sat there waiting. He knew what he was doing. Readjusting himself he got comfortable on his perch with the nice warm flames washing over his feathers.

It all was a matter of time.


End file.
